The Three Phases of Building
Our Bridge
In my school, the special-ed students eat in the common lunchroom and
are seen as they walk in the hallways, but there is little mingling with
the regular students. Four years ago, in an attempt to change attitudes
among teachers as well as students, Carla, the supervisor for special-ed,
sent out a memo offering teachers in-service training leading to integrative
activities with the special-ed children. I was interested, so Carla and
I set up the following three-step program.

Phase
1: Special-ed staff would visit my room to talk about disabilities,
how they affect children, and some of the tools used in teaching special-ed
students. They'd also encourage students to ask questions. Students would
then participate in a workshop that simulates disabilities.

Phase
2: My students would visit the special-ed classrooms; afterward, they'd
have a chance to discuss their observations and ask more questions.

Phase
3: My students and the special-ed students would interact in a culminating
activity.

Phase by Phase
During Phase 1 that first year, the children asked
some questions but became truly engrossed by the equipment used in special-ed
classrooms. As Roberta, an occupational therapist, described how some
of the students cannot control their muscles to move their arms properly,
Michael stared at his own hand, flexing and stiffening his fingers, unconsciously
grimacing as he did so.

Then Ellen, a language and communications teacher, showed my students
some of the tools she uses to help her children learn to communicate.
Michael and the others gathered around to touch pictures that led to words
issuing from a machine, repeating their phrases in a computer-recorded
voice. Everyone wanted to see, hear, and touch the amazing devices that
help students with speech disabilities.

A few weeks later,
my class went downstairs for Phase 2. My students
were divided into four groups and rotated among the four special-ed classrooms,
watching as teachers and paraprofessionals worked with their students.
My students then met briefly with the special-ed staff after each rotation
to discuss what they'd seen.

I was concerned about
how my students would react to Phase 2, but my fears
were groundless. My kids had shed much of their initial fear and/or revulsion
since Phase 1. They even learned some of the students'
names. Their body language had changed, too. In fact, they actively sought
responses from the special-ed kids and reacted to being acknowledged with
a pat or a shy smile.

In the time that led
up to Phase 3, my students asked frequently, "Are
we working with special ed today?" Finally, on a sunny June day,
my eager class went out into the school yard to participate in the Special
Olympics that was the culmination of our cooperative effort. Each contestant
was assigned to one or two of my students, and the games began.

My students were immersed
in their roles from encouraging a girl to throw a ball in the right
direction to lifting up a youngster who needed help. Occasionally conflict
arose when my students were competing over "custody" of their
charges, but these ruffled feathers were quickly smoothed and they returned
to claim their rightful share of guardianship.

The staff and I were
elated the Olympics and the entire experience had been wildly successful.
The sun shone; we beamed. The first bridge had been crossed.

The Bridge Grows
The following year, my class underwent the same procedure and, come June,
worked with special-ed youngsters to plant a school garden. Numerous bees
and the occasional student waving worms at more squeamish classmates (though
never at a special-ed child) did not diminish my students' enthusiasm.
This time it was even more rewarding for me because of a student in my
class named Gloria.
Gloria's initial response to the disabled youngsters had been revulsion;
she had avoided all contact with them up to the gardening activity. That
day I overheard her telling one child to rake, but the youngster couldn't
hold the handle properly or make the necessary motions. "Don't tell
her," I said. "Show her." Gloria looked at the child and
at me. I stepped behind the child, put her fingers on the handle, and
guided her arms in the raking movement.

I stepped back. Gloria
came forward, put her arms around the little girl, and, together, they
raked. Gloria was proud and happy, and so was I for both of us.
Gloria was not the only one who had avoided direct contact until that
day. The bridge became sturdier as I their teacher joined
them on it at last.

Were there problems?
Aside from the difficulty of coordinating schedules so the classes could
get together, some of the special-ed staff were skeptical that attitudes
would really change. Yet now, fifth and sixth graders regularly work with
the special-ed students in the gym. They enjoy helping, feel important,
and have improved self-esteem. The special-ed students enjoy the individualized
attention and relate well to their helpers.

Does Carla feel her
original outreach across the wall of isolation has been a success? "It's
broken down barriers and made disabilities and differences acceptable,"
she says. And me? I read what my students wrote as they began this experience,
and what they write now. It has been far more valuable and enriching than
many of the mandatory workshops that claim our time in school.

Now, after participating
in a disabilities workshop, we are looking forward to the second year
of our Special Olympics. My students can't wait. Neither can I.

Subjects:

Special Education, Kindness and Compassion, Respect, Tolerance and Acceptance, Social and Emotional Development, Special Needs, Teacher Tips and Strategies